


You Make It Safe

by JudeAraya



Category: Glee
Genre: Blowjobs, Finn's death, Grief, M/M, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, intimate connections are the safest place for Kurt to access the hardest parts of grief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make It Safe

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I have to write about the hard ones. I hope...please understand, despite the fact that there is sex here, it's not gratuitous. This is something very personal. When I lost my father, I had such a deep fear of vulnerability. I never let go and cried the way I felt, unless I was with Mr Jude. He was and is the safest place in my life, and often, intimacy is just something that makes me feel very raw and connected to deeper emotions. So that's where this fic was born. Because I needed to give this catharsis to Kurt and Blaine, who although are fictional, I care for very deeply. 
> 
> Beta: Gingerandfair. Thank you honey.

“Kurt?” Blaine sits up, responding automatically to Kurt’s ringtone, eyes barely managing to open. He lets the warmth of his bed drag him back down, and he covers a yawn. He squints at his phone display. 3:47am.

“Hey.” Kurt says. Not sleepy, just...hollow. Lifeless like it’s been for weeks now.

“Honey, are you okay?”

Kurt laughs lightly, “No. Of course not.” 

Blaine winces.  _Of course_. “What’s-”

“Will you come over?” Kurt asks quietly.

“Sure.” Blaine swings his legs out from under the covers, shivering a little.

“I just…” Kurt breathes, “I feel really alone.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.” Blaine promises.

~*~

He uses the emergency key, creeps silently into the house. It’s pitch black with the shades drawn. All the shades, even the upstairs hall window. Closing all the light out. Carole had done it, had insisted on it when Burt had tried to open them a few days after the funeral.

Blaine feels his way carefully into Kurt’s room.

“Kurt?” he whispers. Doesn’t want to wake him up on the off chance he might have fallen asleep.

“In here.” Kurt’s voice comes to him from the bed. He takes off his shoes and climbs in. There’s a pocket of warmth under the covers, and Blaine cautiously curls himself into it. Kurt turns into his embrace, and for a bit, they just breathe together, steady and slow. Blaine’s fingers run over Kurt’s ribs, bump, bump, bump, over and over. There’s something about Kurt, a barely there vibration. He’s been so quiet. Once the funeral had passed, the initial shock of news, he’d become still. Like the shock had stayed and taken up residence.

~*~

He’s almost asleep himself when he feels Kurt’s fingers skirt up, index finger carefully tracing behind his ear and over his cheek. It’s automatic response to shiver. Kurt scoots down a little, starts fluttering kisses over his cheeks and nose and finally, his lips.

“Kurt-”

“Please?” Kurt whispers, then kisses him harder. Urgency that’s almost desperation. “I just...need to be close.” His lips are so soft, moving down his throat. Fingers cold where they urge his henley up his chest and then off. He can’t say no, somehow, even when the worry and yes, pain, curl in his chest. Kurt is so finely held together, he can sense it, and somehow, it makes Blaine feel barely cobbled, like his skin is splitting with pain that aches and aches and aches.

Blaine isn’t hard, not even close, when Kurt tugs his pants down. But it doesn’t seem to matter, even though it makes him embarrassed that he’s not been turned on by Kurt’s obvious need. Defenseless though, his body responds to Kurt’s mouth, hot and determined, around him. His cock fills slowly, hardening under Kurt’s tongue.

“I love that,” Kurt whispers before taking him in deep again. Blaine gasps.

“What?” His hands are gentle on Kurt’s head, his hips moving in small starts and stops.

“Feeling you get hard like that.”

Still a bit cold, Kurt’s fingers find his balls, trace over them reverently. Blaine spreads his legs further apart. Kurt’s thumb pushes hard against his perineum, just the way that makes Blaine helpless, that brings him off faster than anything else.

“ _Oh_ -” he tries to keep his cries in, “I’’m... don’t-”

“You feel so good,” Kurt whispers, burying his face against Blaine’s thigh, kissing and then dragging his lips and nose up the crease of his groin with an inhale. He licks up his shaft and then suckles lightly at the head and Blaine comes, comes and comes and then comes down with a crash. Between his legs he can feel Kurt’s body jolting and trembling.

“Kurt?” He pulls Kurt up carefully.

“ _Don’t_ -” Kurt’s voice cracks. Blaine’s eyes have adjusted to the dark enough to see Kurt’s hand by his mouth; licking his palm maybe? Kurt’s body on his is so heavy. There’s no trace of or pretense that Kurt is holding himself up. Instead he’s plastered to Blaine, the only space between them is Kurt’s fist around his own dick. He’s still quavering. Blaine has a wild thought that maybe this is the only thing holding him together. He tries to get a hand between them and Kurt shakes his head violently.

“Hold me,” he begs, “J-just hold me tight, okay?”

Blaine wraps his arms around his shoulders, Kurt presses his face into the bowl of Blaine’s neck. He wraps his legs around Kurt’s hips. Against his skin, he feels something damp; Kurt’s crying, almost silently, still rocking desperately into his own fist. On each upstroke, Blaine feels the head of his cock sliding against the trail of hair between his belly button and groin.

Kurt comes silently, other than the smallest exhalation that’s broken, almost a sob.

He’s still shaking, harder than before, breath hitching unevenly. Blaine does his best to hold him tightly, because it’s happening, Kurt’s careful resistance splintering.

“Cold,” Kurt manages. Blaine flails a hand, not wanting to move away, finds his own shirt next to the pillow. He manages to clean them both up still close, and then tugs them under the covers. The whole time, Kurt’s chest moves with his shivering whimpers

“Come here.” Blaine pulls him back down gently. His palm is gentle and wide where it strokes up and down.

“I d-don’t know why I’m-” Kurt tries, then like he can’t help it, starts to really cry, the kind of crying that you can’t hold in, that’s ugly and loud and leaves you helpless. “Being connected- I feel so-” Kurt manages, “I love you, _I love you_ , I h-hope you always... k-know- no matter-”

“I do,” Blaine’s tears drip down his face. “Always.”

Kurt cries louder, and like a ship tossed by waves in a storm, all he can do is hold Kurt tightly, and hope they’ll wash ashore eventually.

“Bud-” A light knock sounds and a spill of light floods through the dark where the door cracks. Blaine hasn’t an ounce of care that he’s been caught in Kurt’s bed in the middle of the night. “Is-” Burt looks at Blaine, whose eyes feel gritty and swollen.

“He’ll be okay,”  _I think_.

“Let me know,” Burt swallows, “if either of you need me.”

Blaine nods, then rolls closer to Kurt. His tears aren’t slowing, but the force of them seems to abate.

“Don’t stop please,” he whispers hoarsely. Blaine keeps his hand moving in calm circles, open palmed and slow, against Kurt’s back.

“Should I apologize?” Kurt says, countless minutes later. Blaine’s been floating in a haze, feeling almost hungover by the untethering force of that moment.

“Never. Please, never.”

“That just…” Kurt twitches a shoulder where Blaine’s hand has been soothing him unerringly. “I feel so grounded and calm right now.”

“So I won’t stop.” Blaine promises, meaning so much more than that. _I’ll never stop loving you. Grounding you and holding you when you need me_.

“Being close to you.. _.like that_ ,” Kurt whispers his confession, “I think I needed that. I’d started to feel so far away from it all. Like I’d put it too deep. You make it safe.”

“You make it safe too.” Blaine rubs and rubs Kurt’s back. Feels how Kurt’s body starts to melt into the exhaustion of deep catharsis, until his breath slows into sleep. Blaine doesn’t though, not until sun starts to light around the edges of curtains.

Kurt breathes deeply and moves into a little stretch when the room lights. “Mmm,” his eyes blink open, then shutter back closed. “You’re n’sleepin’” he mumbles against Blaine’s collarbone.

“I didn’t want you to feel alone. Leave you alone,” Blaine says.

“‘m not.” Kurt moves his head to the pillow besides Blaine. His thumb strokes Blaine’s cheekbone. “Sleep, sweetheart.” He kisses Blaine and sighs back into exhaustion. “Not alone. You either.”

Blaine closes his prickling eyes and takes a deep breath, and then finally, slowly, with the gentle weight of Kurt’s hand on his neck, falls asleep.

 


End file.
